Spoonfighter junior is two. I would like to say that he is growing like a weed, but he’s really short and is barely growing at all. So, really, he’s growing more like our lawn. Which is weird because we didn’t put nearly as much fertilizer on our lawn.
He’s not into food, so much. We’re so desperate to get him to eat that we’ll literally let him eat anything he decides to put in his mouth, short of black tar heroin. (It’s a pain in the a** to get out of his clothes.) Pretty much all he likes are donuts and hot dogs. And even to get him to eat hot dogs we have to lie to him and tell him that it’s the meat of some exotic animal. One time we cut the hot dog into long, curved slivers and told him that it was elephant trunk.
His favorites so far are silver back gorilla and baby seal. I don’t know what we’re going to do when we run out of endangered species. We’ll have to get creative, I suppose. “Look! It’s Kanga from your Winnie the Pooh book, remember? Nummy nummy!” (Wait, I’ve already used that one. Yes, I’m a horrible parent.) We recently took him to the zoo for the first time, and I wonder if he was thinking, “Oh, a giraffe. I love giraffe.”
You know, I like the zoo, but it would be a lot better if it was more like Costco or Sam’s Club. You’d go up to an animal enclosure and there’d be this little old lady wearing a hair net and holding a plate full of samples. “Here – try some of this snow leopard. It’s very lean, and it’s on sale today for $5.99 a pound.” Awesome!
The other thing that sucks is that the animals are all pretty lazy. Poke ‘em with sticks or something. Make ‘em do tricks! It’s hard to keep a little kid interested in a lion that sits around like it’s on welfare.
ME: “Hey, loooook! What is that? Is that a lion?”
BOY: “Squiwwel, Daddy! Squiwwel! LOOK DA SQUIWWEL!”
ME: “Yes, that is a squirrel. But don’t you want to see the lion?”
BOY: “Squiwwel squiwwel squiwwel sqiwwel! Yay!”
ME: “HEY – I DIDN’T JUST SHELL OUT 80 FREAKIN BUCKS SO YOU CAN LOOK AT THE LITTLE BEASTS THAT GO THROUGH OUR FREAKIN GARBAGE. LOOK AT THE !@#%!^% LION!!”
BOY: “Bird, Daddy! LOOK DA BIRD!”
I didn’t actually yell at him. I’m really a good parent. When the lions didn’t work out, I bought us tickets for the little train that goes around the zoo. He was totally hooked and threw a fit when the ride ended. This presented a parenting dilemma. I didn’t want to reward bad behavior, but I couldn’t bear to see his sad little face, so I chose a creative “third way.” I slipped the driver of the train fifty bucks and told him not to stop. Then I went home and took a nap.
(Ha ha, I am so just kidding, Ms. Child Welfare Officer.)
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I have a recommendation. Don’t turn 30. In fact, stay away from 29, too, just to be safe. If you’re reading this too late, well, I’m very sorry.